New Years Revelation OR Can't Blame the Mistletoe
by redrider6612
Summary: Angela drags Brennan out for a New Years celebration with the rest of the squints and Booth, of course. Rated M for super steamy chapter two and three. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was going to be a one shot, but the characters kinda took over and insisted it was a two shot. So here's part one and hopefully part two will be posted tomorrow night. A huge thank you goes to my second muse, luli—love ya, sweetie!**

The doorbell rang and Brennan laid the book aside and sighed. It was nearly nine on New Years Eve and she'd been looking forward to a quiet evening alone. Her trip to Peru had been postponed since she'd missed her flight Christmas Eve. She'd missed her second flight on the 26th thanks to the discovery of four badly burned bodies that morning. She hoped nothing would prevent her from making the afternoon flight she was supposed to take tomorrow. It was true that the dig in Peru wasn't going anywhere, as Booth impatiently pointed out, but she was really anxious to be there. Every day that went by meant she missed being in on whatever discoveries that were being made.

She almost didn't open the door when she looked through the peephole and saw who it was. She really didn't need the hassle, but there was no point in ignoring her. She wasn't going to go away—she knew she was home. Opening the door, she gave Angela a weary look.

"Sweetie! Why aren't you ready?" her friend asked, grinning as she swept past her. Brennan's shoulders slumped as she closed the door and reluctantly faced her.

"I told you when you called, I'm not in the mood, Ange," she said, padding over to the couch. Sitting down, she tucked her legs up under her and pulled the chenille throw around herself. Angela perched on the couch near her.

"All the more reason to go," she said irrepressibly. "C'mon Bren, its not going to do you any good to sit here and pout about having to postpone your trip. A little music and dancing, drinking and good company is just the ticket."

Brennan closed her eyes and dropped her head against the back of the couch. "Noooo, Ange. Please, can't you just leave me alone?"

"Now what kind of friend would I be if I left you alone on New Years Eve? C'mon, it'll be fun." Brennan rolled her head towards her and peeked one eye at her doubtfully. "Tell ya what, you come along and stay until the midnight countdown and if you're not having a good time, I'll bring you home myself." The doubtful look intensified. "Promise," Angela swore, raising her right hand as though taking an oath.

Brennan sighed heavily and sat up, pushing the throw aside. "Fine. Give me fifteen minutes to get ready." Sometimes it was just easier to go along when Angela had her sights set on something. Angela hopped up with a grin and a barely suppressed laugh, but she subsided at the glare her friend gave her. "Wait here. I _don't_ need any help."

Angela had to admit Bren was right. She didn't need any help this time. She looked very hot in the teal scoop-necked top and form fitting black slacks, but she kept her thoughts to herself. No need to make things worse. Brennan had a mutinous look on her face as though she had already decided she wasn't going to have a good time. Angela suspected she was going to be driving her home at five minutes past twelve. Looking at her from the corner of her eye as she drove, she hid a smile. Or maybe not. After all, she happened to know a certain hunky FBI agent was going to be there. A couple drinks, some hard-to-resist dance music and a little gentle nudging from a well-meaning friend and anything was possible.

The club was packed but Angela knew the bouncer at the door so they got in without any trouble. Holding Brennan's hand so they wouldn't get separated, Angela began to weave through the crowd toward the table where she had left them when she went to get her errant friend. She frowned as she noticed that Booth wasn't there with Cam, Zach and Hodgins.

"Hi everybody," Angela said with a smile. "I found her with her nose in a book, of all things."

"Imagine that," Cam said sardonically. "Glad you could join us, Dr. Brennan."

"Like I had a choice," Brennan muttered grumpily as they sat down. A cocktail waitress came by just then and they ordered a round of drinks.

Just then Booth came up. He looked startled to find his partner there. "Hey, Bones, when did you get here?"

"Nice to see you too," she said testily and Angela rolled her eyes. These two were impossible. A new song with a strong back beat started and she leaned toward Hodgins.

"Dance with me before I hurt somebody?" she asked him softly. His eyes darted around the table and he smiled at her.

"Sure. Wouldn't want violence to spoil the evening. Excuse us," he said, getting up and taking Angela's hand to guide her to the crowded dance floor. Booth sat down as the drinks arrived. Cam looked back and forth between the partners, then decided to give them some time alone.

"Let's dance, Zach," she commanded, standing up. Zach's head snapped up and his mouth dropped open. "Now, Zach," she said with a tight smile at his hesitation.

"Uh, I—uh, are you sure? I'm a terrible dancer and you're my boss and—" he stammered, subsiding at her stern look. "Yes, ma'am, I-I'd l-like that." His face was red as she led him away.

Booth looked at the surging crowd around them but found nothing to hold his interest, certainly nothing as fascinating as the woman sitting across from him. She was frowning at her glass, drawing circles in the condensation on the table.

"You still upset about postponing your trip?" he asked, just to get the conversation going.

Her glance bounced up to meet his, her look startled as though she'd forgotten he was there. "There's no point being upset. It couldn't be helped. I've got a flight tomorrow afternoon."

Booth narrowed his eyes at her. "What's the attraction? Why go halfway around the world to look at a pile of bones that's thousands of years old?"

Picking up her drink, she took a sip, considering his question. Setting it back down, she decided to answer him honestly. "Studying ancient cultures tells us things about our culture—where we came from and how we got where we are today. It's like finding a piece to a huge puzzle and placing it where it belongs. Maybe it's my way of making up for my social shortcomings. Sometimes I think if I can understand more about people and their cultures, maybe I can learn how to interact with them better."

Booth watched her thoughtfully. "You do okay. Certainly better now than you did when I first met you."

She smiled, pleased that he had noticed. "Thank you."

An awkward silence fell as they both searched for something else to say. That usually wasn't a problem with them, but then it wasn't every day they were in a social situation that required small talk.

"Do you want to dance?" Booth finally asked as he noticed she was tapping her fingers to the beat.

"Oh, no, you don't have to—" she protested, straightening a little in her seat.

"I didn't ask because I had to. I'd like to dance with you," he said with a cocked grin. She hesitated, glancing over his shoulder towards the crowded dance floor. "C'mon, it isn't like we've never danced before." He stood up and offered his hand. After a moment of indecision, she put her hand in his and stood. Because she didn't want to embarrass him, she told herself.

By the time they made their way to the dance floor the music had changed to a slow ballad. Couples all around them were plastered up against each other, and she felt self conscious of the fact that she was on the dance floor with her _partner_, not her lover. She hesitated as he turned to pull her into his arms, unfazed by the change in the beat. Rather than make a scene, she let him pull her close. She was intensely conscious of his warm hand at her waist and the faint brush of his thighs against hers as they settled into the rhythm of the song. She focused on a point over the heads of the crowd and tried to ignore the startling rush of desire that was threatening to overwhelm her.

His shoulder was solid and warm under her fingers and she resisted the impulse to trace the lines of his muscles. Her eyes were drawn to examine his left hand which held hers firmly, the fingers long, the skin slightly calloused; a manly hand that could be gentle or violent, as the need arose. She'd worn low heels in anticipation of dancing, so her eyes were level with his nose and she glanced at his face from the corner of her eye. If she turned her head, their lips would be a breath apart. A flush spread up her neck as she remembered the kiss under the mistletoe. His lips had been softer than she'd anticipated and once the initial shock had worn off he had parted them slightly to sip at her gently. Keenly aware of Caroline's presence, Brennan had fought the urge to deepen the kiss.

The song finally ended and Brennan broke out of his embrace, murmuring something about going to the ladies' room. Booth watched her disappear into the crowd with a puzzled look on his face.

That was the only dance they had. She danced with Zach, then with a string of guys who approached the table to ask her. Booth watched her with each of them, pushing away a pang of jealousy every time she looked up at them, smiled at them, even seemed to be flirting with some of them. Angela sensed the rising frustration in Booth and racked her brain for some way to bring them together again. She'd seen them dancing earlier—the sexual tension had rolled off them in waves. It wasn't going to take much to push them past whatever barrier was holding them apart.

Everyone crowded onto the dance floor as the minutes ticked toward midnight. Brennan was looking for Angela. She was going to hold her to her promise to take her home after the countdown. Not that she hadn't had fun—she'd just had _enough_ fun for one night and she was really tired.

Angela was well aware that Brennan was looking for her and she was doing her best to evade her. At the same time she had sent Booth looking for Brennan on the pretext that Angela wanted to take her home right after the hubbub of midnight died down. He found her at one minute 'til midnight, trying to push her way through the crowd.

"Bones!" he said loudly over the noise of the crowd. She turned around, right into his arms. Her startled blue eyes looked up into his and he forgot what he was going to say. The noise around them seemed to fade to a faint jumble of sound as they stared at each other, pushed together by the crush of people. She stumbled a little when someone fell into her and his arms tightened around her. She smiled faintly as a strange sense of peace and complete safety settled over her. Her eyes dropped to his lips and suddenly the room erupted around them with cries of "Happy New Year!" and people started embracing and kissing on all sides.

"Fuck it," Booth said low, then dropped his head to kiss her.

This was like the mistletoe kiss, only better. They were surrounded by hundreds of people, but nobody was watching them this time, so Brennan gave in to her desires. She wanted to know what a real kiss would be like with him, so with a soft sigh she sank into him, opening her lips to allow him to taste her. He gave a start of surprise but quickly recovered, softening the kiss and delving into the soft, moist depths of her mouth with a faint groan. Her tongue slid along his, savoring the incredible sensation of tongue against tongue, flavors mingling and textures sending thrills along her nerve endings. Her hands crept up his shoulders, along his neck and up into his hair, clutching him to her tightly.

Booth's senses were spinning. Who knew kissing her like this, without restraint, like he'd wanted to for so long, would be so intoxicating? He pulled her tighter into his embrace, painfully aroused and beyond caring if she knew it. The kiss went on and on, until suddenly they became aware that the crowd around them was on the second chorus of Auld Lang Syne. They parted slowly and stood staring at each other, breathless and dazed as though just waking from a deep, dream-filled sleep.

The crowd was milling around them, gradually breaking up, and now there was room for them to put some space between them. Brennan blushed and looked away, but Booth was having none of that. His finger snagged her chin and brought her face back to him again. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed huskily.

Her eyes flared wide. "R-really? But—"

His finger on her lips stopped her protest. "Not here," he whispered, and the look in his eyes made it hard to breathe suddenly. Turning away from her, he took her hand and led her through the crowd. She noticed he was headed for the door instead of their table, but he completely ignored her tugging on his hand and her voice telling him to stop. He barely stopped to gather their coats at the door, then he ushered her outside.

"I'm taking you home," he said firmly as he helped her into her coat, then put on his own.

She folded her arms against the chill. "What if I don't want to go home?" she said stubbornly. This couldn't be happening, she thought frantically.

He frowned at her. Damn, she was frustrating. "Angela said you wanted to go home right after the midnight countdown."

"Maybe I changed my mind," she said, pursing her lips.

Booth shivered a little in the cold as well, even as he felt his temper start to rise. Where was the woman who had melted in his arms just moments ago? The determined look on her face told him her defenses were back up and suddenly he'd had enough. He stepped into her personal space and she met his glare, refusing to back down. "Don't even try to pretend that was a brotherly kiss we shared back there, because I was there too," he growled, clenching his hands at his sides. Her stubbornness really ticked him off and he was afraid if he touched her right now, he'd shake her until her teeth rattled.

His anger should have scared her, but she looked up at him calmly, knowing he'd never hurt her. "You're right, it wasn't," she finally admitted to his surprise. "The way I see it, we have two choices: forget about it and go on with our platonic relationship, or we could—" she broke off, searching for the right words.

"Go to my place and fuck like bunnies?" he finished bluntly, just to shake her up.

She didn't disappoint. Paling, she took an involuntary step back and gasped. "There's no need to be so—"

"Crude? Why not? Falls right in line with your 'biological urges' attitude doesn't it?" he asked roughly.

"I'm not going to talk to you if you're going to be that way," she said, turning to go back inside.

She was right. Booth sighed as his anger dissipated and he caught her arm. "I'm sorry." Her head snapped back to look at him. "Please, let's go to my place."

"Just to talk," she said firmly. He nodded, but she made him wait a long minute. "Okay."

Turning to lead the way, he glanced back from time to time to make sure she was following, but he needn't have worried. She was determined to settle this, no matter which way it went.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ok, thanks for your patience, but believe me when I say it's good that I made you wait. My second muse, luli, helped me bunches with the characters' motivations—thanks so much, sweetie!**

The drive to Booth's place was silent. Brennan didn't want to talk in the car because she wanted his undivided attention and Booth sensed it wouldn't take much to set her off, so he thought it was best to just let her be.

He was careful not to touch her as they crossed the parking lot. Opening his front door, he stood aside to let her precede him, then closed and locked the door behind them. He turned on one lamp in the living room and stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to begin. Crossing to the couch, she sat at one end and waited expectantly for him to sit down too. When he did, she took a deep, steadying breath and began. Her first words made his jaw drop.

"I can't just…have sex with you, Booth," she said calmly. The look on his face forced her to explain. "Our partnership, our friendship, makes that impossible. We've known each other nearly three years."

Booth swallowed thickly. This wasn't going the way he wanted it to. "So you're telling me we can't satisfy our biological urges with each other because we know each other too well?"

She pursed her lips. "With us, it could never just be about satisfying biological urges because of our…emotional attachment."

"What would it be then?" he asked hoarsely. "Making love?"

She flushed a little and looked away. After a moment she looked at him again. "I don't know, you have more experience with this than I do. Wouldn't making love involve being 'in love'?"

Good question. Complicated answer. "Yeah, but not always." She frowned in confusion and he went on. "Two people don't have to be in love in order to make love." Her frown deepened. Booth blew out a breath. He wasn't explaining this very well. Where was Angela? "Making love isn't necessarily about being in love, it can be as simple as caring about your partner's needs and feelings. Without that, its just sex. Maybe even crappy sex." He paused, wondering if he should tell her—oh, what the hell. "Now, making love to someone that you love…that's when it is really mind blowing."

Intrigued, she moved closer to him, her eyes locked with his. "I'm not sure I've ever had that," she murmured.

Booth's pulse kicked up. Maybe he wasn't doing so bad after all. "Really? What about Sully?" he whispered, surprised.

She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. "I-I thought—I mean, the sex was great, but there was something missing. Maybe it wasn't making love."

He moved closer to her, holding her gaze. "Believe me, you'd know it if it was."

"You think it might be—mind blowing with us?" she asked faintly as his proximity sent her pulse and respiration off the charts.

"Yeah, I do," he whispered.

Her eyes dropped to his lips and her breathing picked up speed. "What if you're wrong?" she whispered, leaning in to touch her lips to his. She pulled back after the lightest of touches.

"I'm not," he murmured seriously. Framing her lovely face with his hands, he shifted closer, slowly closing the gap between them. Brennan's eyes fluttered shut at the first exquisitely gentle brush of his lips. He kept the kisses light and sweet, watching for a sign from her that she wanted more. It came a moment later when her hands came up to touch his forearms and she strained toward him.

Groaning, he slid his arms around her, gathering her close as his tongue sought entrance and she opened her lips on a shuddering sigh. His left hand moved down to her hip to shift her on the couch and ease her down until they were lying together, chest to chest. Leaning up on his elbow, his eyes met hers as his free hand slipped under the hem of her shirt. Her eyes dilated as he touched the satiny skin of her abdomen, moving up to cup her breast through the fabric of her bra. Her breath hitched as he brushed her nipple and it pebbled almost painfully. Her legs trembled as sensations raced to the core of her, causing a deep knot of need that took her breath away.

_Two could play at that_, she thought. Pushing both hands up under his shirt, she shoved it up and over his head, tossing it away so she could explore the slopes and planes of his chest. Humming with pleasure, she circled his flat nipples with her thumbs, dragging a ragged groan from him. Suddenly anxious to feel his skin against hers, she twisted sideways and pulled off her own top. When she would have unfastened her bra he brushed her fingers away and bent his head to press his moist open mouth just above the clasp between her breasts. With a deft move of his fingers, the clasp came open and he leaned up on his elbow as he peeled away the cups, his gaze reverent as he admired her. Bending his head, he caressed one trembling peak with the tip of his tongue, his eyes closed with intense pleasure as her nipple swelled. Her breathing picked up and her hands clutched his head, holding him there in a wordless plea not to stop. Then he sucked her nipple into his mouth and rolled it against the roof of his mouth and she gave a keening cry that raised goosebumps on his arms.

Suddenly she was pulling at his hair, trying to make him stop as the sensations became unbearably sharp. Raising his head, he gave her nipple a last kiss before turning his attention to the other one, giving it the same treatment until her hips were writhing against him. The knot of need had tightened painfully and she was whimpering with intense arousal.

Sliding his hand between them, he unbuttoned her pants and eased the zipper down. She shifted her hips and one of her hands reached around to push her pants off. Booth helped her when he wasn't distracted by the intriguing curves that were being revealed, that is. Finally she kicked the offending garments away and she reached for his button. Brushing her impatient fingers aside, he unfastened his jeans. She made a sound of protest when he stood to shuck the rest of his clothes, but he was back a moment later, stretching out atop her. Her hands stroked down his sides and settled on his buttocks and Booth moaned as she ran her fingers lightly over the hairs she found there, sending thrills racing down his legs. In retaliation he reached between them to touch the curls between her legs, one finger delving in to touch her clit, unbelievably aroused by the slick heat he found there. She gasped as he stroked her surely and her hips bucked as pleasure crashed through her, shaking her to her very center. Her hands clutched at his hips, silently begging him to end the torment and give them both what they wanted so desperately.

Propping himself up on his elbows, his eyes locked with hers solemnly as he moved between her thighs, positioning himself carefully. Bending her knees, she surged up just as he flexed his hips and they both gave a gasp at the spiraling pleasure of being joined at last. Her eyes fluttered shut.

"Look at me," he demanded raggedly. She opened her eyes and found herself mesmerized by the intensity in his face, the rugged planes of his face set in a look of complete concentration as he began to move slowly, drawing out the pleasure. She matched his rhythm perfectly, surging up to meet every smooth thrust as they strove for completion.

He tried to hold off as long as he could, but she was so tight and sleek, so responsive to his every move that he was finding it harder than he ever had before. Experience had taught him how to play a woman's body to maximize her pleasure and therefore his own, but he'd never been with anyone like her before. They fit together flawlessly, so in tune with each other that he found his self control slipping. But he needn't have worried, she was right there with him, teetering on the knife's edge, so that when he finally lost it and plunged deep one last time, she cried out at intensity of her orgasm.

Long after his last spasm her muscles continued to contract around him, sending little aftershocks rippling through him from the place they were joined. His breathing slowly evened out and he realized he was crushing her into the couch cushions, but when he moved to roll off her she clutched at his shoulders. He turned his head to find her watching him with a look of awe.

"Is—was—that was amazing," she whispered in that sexy, husky voice of hers.

His smile was smug. "That was making love," he corrected softly.

"Is it always like that?" she asked curiously.

He rolled to his side, sliding his arm under her to cuddle her close. "No."

She looked at him, but his eyes had drifted shut. She lightly smacked the arm that lay across her middle. "Booth, don't go to sleep. I want to know how this was different. And why. Physical reactions are a product of stimuli and endorphins and—"

Booth's lips cut off her lecture. His lips sipped at hers tenderly, over and over, until she was gasping and her hips were writhing against him again. He raised his head and looked at her with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "The lesson is over. If you're looking for a detailed explanation as to how and why it's so damn good between us, you're asking the wrong person. Angela might be able to shed some light on it, but I suggest you wear earplugs when you tell her or your eardrums may not survive. Now, I need to sleep a little while and I want to do it with you in my arms. If you're good I'll treat you to a second round and maybe even a third." He laid his head back down and closed his eyes.

"Booth," she asked softly, tapping his shoulder gently. One of his eyes popped open and she smiled at him. "I'm still going to Peru."

Sighing, he closed his eye again. "We'll talk about that later."

She settled into his arms, content for the moment to luxuriate in the safety she found there. But if he thought this was going to change her independent tendencies, he was in for a big surprise.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is the sequel to 'New Years Revelation' and it was inspired by a heart wrenching song "Right Here Waiting" by Richard Marx. You don't have to listen to it while you read this, but I highly recommend it—it's a really beautiful song. I was gonna do this as a songfic, but some of the lyrics don't quite fit the story.**

On her way back from Peru after a month's absence, Brennan sat staring blindly out the airplane window. She couldn't stop wondering if he would be waiting when she landed and if he was still angry that she'd left without saying goodbye. Unwillingly she found herself remembering the last time she'd seen him.

_She left him sleeping in his bed in the soft predawn light. Pausing at the door, she looked back at him. He looked so vulnerable, his features slack with sleep, one arm thrown out with the hand relaxed, as though he was reaching for her. She almost went back to the bed and crawled back in with him. The longing to snuggle up to his solid warmth caused a physical ache so intense, it made her gasp. Straightening her spine, she whispered goodbye and slipped out before she lost her resolve. She needed the time away from him, to figure things out. This thing between them was…too damn complicated._

Sighing, she put her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. A month had been long enough for her to recover her equilibrium and come to a decision. She just hoped he had come to the same decision.

She looked for him at the airport, though she didn't expect him to be there. She had threatened Angela with dire consequences if she breathed a word about her arrival to anyone. Hefting her carryon, she headed for baggage claim.

"Sweetie!" was the only warning Brennan had that she'd been found before Angela descended on her in a whirlwind of hugs and questions. "How was your flight? Did you miss me? Why didn't you call more?"

Brennan smiled tiredly. "Long distance from Peru is pretty expensive. It was only a month."

"True, but I really missed you. I'd ask you about your work, but I'm _so_ not in the mood for a long anthropology lesson, so I'll just ask if it was as interesting as you expected it to be."

Brennan put the strap of her carryon on her shoulder and picked up the suitcase she had snagged from the carousel, heading for the exit. "It was extremely interesting and exciting, but I'm glad to be home. How is everyone? Did you guys work any cases while I was gone?" She really wanted to ask about Booth, but didn't want to deal with the questions that would spawn.

Angela smiled. She knew that was Bren's indirect way of asking about Booth, but she'd be nice and go along—for now. "Yeah, we got one the week after you left. Old lady found decomposing in her bed. Her husband was too far gone with Alzheimer's to remember he hadn't seen her in weeks. Turns out she died of natural causes."

"Who found her?"

"Pastor from a local church that checks in on them from time to time," Angela explained. She waited for Brennan to ask about Booth. They reached the car before she finally gave in. "Booth asked about you—every time I saw him. He tried to be casual about it, but he's a lousy actor. What happened with you two?"

Brennan shot her a look of shock. "Happened? When?" she bluffed.

Angela rolled her eyes as they stowed the bags in the trunk. "C'mon, sweetie, this is me—remember? Your best friend? You two disappeared from the New Year's Eve party, then you avoided me the next day and took off for Peru." They got in the car and Angela narrowed perceptive eyes at her friend. "Did you two kiss again?" she asked suspiciously.

Brennan blushed, then decided a little truth might be in order. Maybe if she admitted that much, she wouldn't have to disclose the rest. "Yeah, so what if we did? It was midnight on New Year's Eve and everyone was kissing—"

Angela's face split with a huge grin. "I knew it!" she crowed. "Damn, I miss all the good stuff."

"Don't get excited. Nothing is going to change, Ange. We're partners, nothing more." At least that's what she thought. She'd know more after she saw Booth.

Angela threw her hands up. "You have to be kidding! You finally got your lips on that gorgeous hunk and you're gonna just go back to being partners?"

Brennan sighed and looked away. "Can we go now? I really want to take a shower, eat and fall into bed for at least eight hours."

Sighing, Angela started the car and backed out of the parking space. "We are not done talking about this, sweetie. Somebody needs to be the voice of romance here, and as usual, the task falls to me."

Brennan leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. There was no point in answering—it would only set her off again and she was in no shape for a debate. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with her friend and whatever other issues there were.

B&B&B&B&B&B

Booth gave her twenty four hours. Plenty of time to unwind, unpack and relax. By Saturday night at five he was out of patience and standing at her front door with a bottle of wine and a single red rose. Time to find out if she'd spent her time away from him talking herself out of this.

When she opened the door he wondered if he should have called first. He'd never seen her look so…grungy before. Her jeans had huge holes in both knees and he suspected the T-shirt she wore might have been red at some point even though it was now more of a rust color with circles of sweat under the arms. Her hair was caught up in a sloppy ponytail and her face was void of makeup, though there was a smudge of dirt on her nose and across one cheek. Booth thought she was the best thing he'd seen in a month.

"Booth?" she said in that whiskey smooth voice of hers.

He grinned like an idiot. "Hi!"

She gave a slight frown and glanced behind him, then looked up at him again. "What are you doing here?"

He couldn't seem to stop staring. He held up the wine and presented her with the rose. "Welcome back," he said because he couldn't seem to think of anything more intelligent to say.

"Thanks," she said. After a brief awkward pause she took the wine and the rose and motioned with her head. He followed her in and closed the door as she headed to the kitchen. He leaned in the doorway and watched with interest as she opened a cabinet and reached up high for the bud vase on the top shelf. Her shirt hiked up and he was treated to a view of the creamy skin of her lower back before it dropped back in place. He straightened from the doorjamb as a jolt of pure desire caused an uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. He managed to school his features into a mask of innocence just as she turned from the sink after putting water in the vase. Popping the rose into the vase, she placed it in the center of the table, then stood back and tucked her hands into her back pockets, causing her breasts to become even more…oh, God. Swallowing thickly, he looked away, trying to control the urge to grab her and bend her over the table and…oh, hell. So much for his resolve to take it slow.

"Booth?" she asked, suddenly concerned. He looked like he was going to be ill. "Are you okay?"

He swallowed again and nodded, his glance darting to her and away again. "Look, I'm sorry, I guess I should have called…I can come back if this is a bad time."

She shrugged. "I was just cleaning, but I'm done now. If you don't mind waiting, I'd like to take a quick shower. I'm pretty dirty."

"Uh, sure. Got a beer?" he asked as she reached up and released her hair to tumble around her shoulders. Distracted by the sight of those luxurious tresses brushing her shoulders, he didn't realize she'd gotten him the beer until she was pressing it into his hand.

"I'll be back in ten minutes. Make yourself comfortable," she said softly, smiling slightly at the dazed look on his face.

Seated on her couch, Booth took a swig of his beer and tried to keep his mind off the thought of her standing naked under the shower head, water sluicing down her body, her hands soaping her limbs and...Damn, it wasn't working, as evidenced by the increased tightness in his groin area. He started reciting multiplication tables. It was just beginning to work when the shower shut off and a mental picture of her drying off popped into his head.

He sat up when she appeared in the doorway. Her hair was damp and she was wearing grey sweats and a navy T-shirt. Her feet were bare. She smiled at the expectant look on his face, then padded over to sit near him, one leg drawn up under her, body angled toward him.

He waited for her to say something, but it seemed she was content to study him for the moment. He spoke to fill the silence.

"How was Peru?"

"Hot…fascinating…exciting…I loved it," she said. She wanted to kiss him, but she wasn't sure if he wanted her to. He still hadn't made a move to touch her and she was lousy at reading people, even though he was usually easier to read than most.

"Find some interesting bones?" he asked, fascinated by the animation in her face when she talked about her passion, anthropology.

She didn't want to talk about that. She had a different passion on her mind. "Did you miss me?" she asked softly. She couldn't seem to stop staring at his mouth. She was remembering some of the amazing, heart-stopping things that mouth had done to her. Her breathing hitched as heat curled in her belly.

"Yeah," he murmured. He finally reached up to run a finger down her cheek and she forgot to breathe for a minute as her eyes drifted shut. His next words made them pop open again. "You didn't say goodbye."

"Yes I did—you…were asleep," she said with a faint smile. His finger trailed down her neck and stopped at the hollow at the base. She shivered as goosebumps sprang up everywhere.

"That doesn't count," he countered, leaning forward to kiss her cheek, missing her wanting mouth on purpose.

"Sue me," she teased, turning her head as his lips continued their journey to her ear.

His arm slipped around her waist to pull her closer, turning her body to lie across his lap. She looked up to find him looking down at her intently.

"I didn't know why you did that…" he said hoarsely. "It drove me nuts every time I thought about it. I thought you regretted what we'd done—"

"Not at the time, though I did sometimes, later, when I was alone…Are you going to kiss me, Booth?" she asked impatiently.

"I'm thinking about it," he teased. Her impatience was cute.

"What's stopping you?" she asked, breathless at the look he was giving her. Like he was dying of thirst and she was a tall glass of ice water.

"Uncertainty," he replied unhelpfully.

"Kiss me, dammit!" she demanded roughly, snaking an arm up around his neck and pulling his head down. Finally he gave in, lips meeting hers, molding and nibbling, sending her mind spinning. She sighed and settled into his arms, opening her mouth to take him in, imitating what her body was aching to do with another part of his anatomy.

It was like a homecoming, being in his arms again, and suddenly she knew this was where she belonged. He wasn't like any other man she'd ever met. Brave, honest, loyal, steadfast…he was everything she needed in the man she could love. Somehow she knew he'd never do anything to hurt her; she could trust him with her forever.

His hands slid up under her shirt, the slightly rough skin of his palms causing oddly pleasant shivers to course through her body. Reaching around to unfasten her bra, he pulled off both garments in a flourish. He stared for a long moment, then his hand cupped one breast, lifting it as he dipped his head to nibble at the peak. Gasping, she clutched at his hair as heat gathered in her center and she moved her legs restlessly.

Her hands made fast work of removing his shirt as well, but they stilled for a moment when they made contact with the fine musculature of his chest. Slowly smoothing her hands over his warm skin, she paused to stroke her fingers over his flat nipples, drawing a deep groan from him. A wry smile quirked her lips. It was nice to know he was as much at her mercy as she was at his.

Suddenly he stood up, pulling her with him. She made a sound of protest which his lips cut off, and then his intent became clear as his hands slipped into the drawstring waistband of her sweatpants to cup her ass. She reached down to untie the drawstring and push the pants and her panties down her legs, then started on the button and fly of his jeans. When they were both naked at last, she pushed him down on the couch and quickly straddled his lap. His hands roamed her hips, buttocks and back as his penis probed her slick center.

"I think I like this position best," he said huskily then started trailing kisses up her jaw line as he enjoyed the freedom of having full access to her whole body.

Her eyes rolled as pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. God, what was he doing with his hands? she wondered distantly. Then the hands in question grasped her hips and he slowly slid his whole length into her. He stopped when he was fully sheathed, shaking with the effort to control the overwhelming urge to roll her to her back and pump away until he came. Part of the beauty of this position was the control she had over the pace. Straddling his lap, she was eye to eye with him. Their eyes locked as she began to move up and down on him, agonizingly slow, causing him to clench his teeth. She was so tight and wet, he had to concentrate on breathing deep to keep himself under control.

Her body was clamoring for release, but she kept the pace slow to draw out the pleasure. Her hands clutched his shoulders for leverage as she moved on him. His hands were cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing the peaks repeatedly until she wanted to scream.

"Pinch them," she whispered raggedly. When he complied she rewarded him by picking up the pace as the knot at her center tightened almost painfully. Encouraged, he pinched harder, drawing a gasp and a muted scream from her. Faster, harder, she drove them ever closer to the goal, panting as much from the exertion as from the incredible sensations that were crashing through her body. His hands bracketed her hips, taking some of the control from her, but she didn't care since it increased her pleasure tenfold.

Finally, just as he lost his hold on the last vestiges of his self control, she stiffened and keened, a long, wrenching cry that he joined with a guttural cry of his own as he clutched her tightly to him. When the last throbbing spasm finally passed, she collapsed against him, utterly drained.

Sliding sideways to lie on the couch, Booth pulled her down to lie beside him, cuddling her close in his arms. Brushing a lock of hair from her face, he leaned down to kiss her lingeringly, then leaned up to look down at her with a smile.

"Wow," was all he said.

She smiled a very satisfied smile. "I agree." Her face became thoughtful. "I guess this means we're not just partners any more," she observed.

Booth smiled. "That would be accurate, Dr. Brennan. Does that bother you?"

Her eyes met his seriously. "Not as much as I thought it would bother _you_. You're the one who has been so insistent that our relationship is platonic."

He sighed. "Yeah, well, I got to the point where I couldn't lie to myself—or anyone else—any longer."

"Well, I could have lived with things as they were," she said with a slightly superior tone.

"Oh-ho! Really? Coulda fooled me. You sure got into it pretty quick once we got started," he pointed out.

She had the grace to blush a little. "Once you crossed the line, it was like…suddenly it was okay, so there was no reason to hold back."

He kissed her softly. "I'm glad you didn't."

"Me too," she replied.

Reaching for the throw that lay over the back of the couch, he drew it over them both and snuggled down with her in his arms. Minutes later they were both sleeping with identical smiles of contentment.

B&B&B&B&B

Angela came into Brennan's office as they were discussing the new case that had just come in. It took her seconds to sense the change between them.

"What's going on?" she asked suspiciously, looking back and forth between them. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something…

"We've got a new case," Brennan said, turning to pull her jacket on.

"No, not that…I mean between you two. You're…glowing," she said, then pinned Booth with a look. "And you look like…Ohmygod, you had sex, didn't you?" she said in a hushed, excited whisper.

They had already discussed how to handle Angela, so they were prepared. Brennan pulled her hair out of the collar of her coat and turned to face her friend. "Yes," she replied blandly. Angela's mouth fell open.

Booth put his hands on his hips. "Ready? We really need to get going," he said as though they hadn't just dropped the biggest bombshell ever to hit the Jeffersonian.

Angela kept opening and closing her mouth, then finally managed to say something as Brennan picked up her kit and they headed for the door. "Wait! You can't leave! I need details," she sputtered.

The partners turned as one to look at her. "Maybe later, Ange. We've got work to do," Brennan said with a smile. "We'll do lunch."

Booth pulled the door open. "I thought we were having lunch," he protested.

"We're having dinner, Booth," she reminded him, preceding him through the door. Booth gave Angela a wave as he followed her. Brennan's voice drifted back to her as she watched them leave, amazed that they were being so…blasé about the whole thing. "Just because we're dating doesn't mean we're going to spend every hour of the day together. I need my space and if I want to have lunch with my friend…"

Angela finally realized she was standing there with her mouth hanging open. She closed her mouth, then a slow grin spread across her face. 'Well, it's about time,' she thought, blissfully happy for her friend. 'Wait 'til I tell Hodgie, the naysayer. This will show him her sixth sense was for real.' With a sigh and a smothered squeal, she went in search of her fiancé.

THE END? OR IS IT JUST THE BEGINNING?


End file.
